


Sunshine and Daffodils

by orphan_account



Series: Rule 63 Combeferre/Courfeyrac Filth [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Combeferre is a police officer, Courfeyrac is a vigilante, Enjolras and Grantaire are minor characters, F/F, Grantaire is kind of an ass but i have nothing against her, Police AU, Rule 63, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac laughed again, and Combeferre pressed her mouth to the other woman’s, breathing the joyous sound in. They kissed, winding their arms around each other, and Combeferre’s fingers rested on the bare skin of Courfeyrac’s back, staying away from the stitches she had given her before their sexual tension became too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine and Daffodils

**Author's Note:**

  * For [space_radio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_radio/gifts).



A feminine voice called over the sounds of New Orleans’ French Quarter. “Hello beautiful, where are you going on this fine afternoon?”

The question could have been directed at any of the passersby, but NOPD detective Jeanne Combeferre knew that it was directed at her and stopped, sighing as she turned towards the bright flower cart next to the precinct. “Miss Courfeyrac, do you have a crime to report?”

“Not the crime of Detective Combeferre being too beautiful to exist, either,” Enjolras said, turning around as well, a golden eyebrow raised. “You tried that three times already, and I refuse to arrest my partner just because you demand it.”

“I’ll make a citizen’s arrest then,” Courfeyrac said, her eyes still trained on Combeferre. “I have handcuffs.”

Combeferre averted her gaze, trying not to smile in amusement. Instead of looking at the petite Hispanic woman, she examined the bright yellow daffodils on Courfeyrac’s flower cart, the _Marigold Mobile_. “That’s not how citizen arrests work, Antoinette.” She brushed a thumb over the soft petal of the daffodil, and then looked back up at Enjolras. “We should go. That apartment isn’t going to check itself out.”

“Are the old married couple moving in together?” Courfeyrac said, leaning against the cart.

Enjolras rolled her eyes. “No. It’s a possible place for Solar Flare’s headquarters. We’re still working on tracking them down.”

“I thought you were off of that case,” Courfeyrac said. “From what I heard, you’ve said a few too many things in favor of the vigilante.”

“Yeah, well, Solar Flare broke Detective Tholomeyes’ leg, so I’m back on.” Enjolras shrugged.

Courfeyrac looked from Enjolras to Combeferre. “Isn’t he that guy who groped you?”

Combeferre nodded.

“So it sounds like he got what he had coming to him,” Courfeyrac said, still watching Combeferre. “He should be lucky that he didn’t get hurt worse. From what I heard, Solar Flare could put him into a full-body cast easily.” Combeferre could feel her pulse in her ears, biting her lip. Courfeyrac still had a smile on her face, but her eyes were like dark brown steel and full of fury.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” Enjolras said. “Jeanne, we should go.”

Combeferre looked away from Courfeyrac. “Right. Right, yeah.” She followed Enjolras towards the car.

“Detective Combeferre,” Courfeyrac said, and Combeferre turned back to the flower cart. The woman held out a daffodil to her. “Here.”

“I don’t have any cash.”

“Flowers grow from the ground, darling. I can afford to give one away to a beautiful woman.”

Combeferre took the flower by its spherical stem, rotating it so that the bright blossom spun like a woman in a yellow dress, her arms stretched towards the sky as her skirt billowed around her. “Thank you,” she said, looking from the daffodil back to Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac smiled. “You’re welcome. Now go. Good luck, be safe, et cetera.”

“Always am.” Combeferre turned and followed after Enjolras, absorbed in watching the flower spin.

\- - -

Combeferre dropped her keys onto the table by her apartment’s door, plopping down onto the couch without taking off her coat, holster, or shoes. The tip about the possible headquarters for Solar Flare hadn’t worked out. And of course, on the way back to the precinct, she and Enjolras had run into a reporter for The Advocate, Julie Grantaire. After asking them – okay, Enjolras – a series of antagonistic questions about the Solar Flare investigation, Grantaire had made it personal.

“Are you sure you want to catch this vigilante?” she had asked Enjolras, an eyebrow raised. “You’re not exactly the most unbiased officer out there. Are you sure that you aren’t sabotaging the investigation?”

Combeferre was too slow to stop Enjolras from taking a swing at Grantaire, resulting in an evening of convincing Grantaire to drop the assault charges while Enjolras glowered from her desk. Eventually, it took Combeferre the promise of an interview about the Solar Flare investigation to allow herself and Enjolras to go home.

She stood, groaning from her sore feet, and went into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of icy water and drinking about half of it. Bending down, she took off her shoes and socks, throwing them towards the door, and was about to begin rubbing her feet when she heard three raps.

“Coming,” she called, walking over to the door and opening it. There was nobody there in the dingy hallway, and Combeferre couldn’t hear anything except for the neighbor’s television. She shook her head and closed the door, turning back around.

There was someone crouched at her window. They were wearing a black leather suit that clung to their body, with a yellow sun in the center, its rays splayed across the fabric. Combeferre recognized the uniform from the pictures she had stared at in previous weeks, trying to force herself to crack the case. Solar Flare’s hand was holding a white cloth to their side, and Combeferre could see red on it.

She pulled her gun from her belt and flicked off the safety, pointing it at the sun on the vigilante’s chest. Solar Flare raised their free hand. “Hey,” they called in a relatively high-pitched voice. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not capable of that right now.”

“Right,” Combeferre said, “of course.” Keeping her eyes on Solar Flare, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and pressed 2, knowing that Enjolras’ name would pop up on the screen.

“Wait,” Solar Flare said. “Please. Don’t call anybody.” They winced, pressing the cloth down further on their wound. “I need your help.”

Combeferre put her phone up to her ear, hearing the ring tone.

“Detective Combeferre, please,” Solar Flare said. “I’m begging you, please, don’t call Detective Enjolras.”

_How the fuck did they know?_ “Give me one good reason,” Combeferre said, gun still trained on the center of the sun.

Solar Flare sighed, then reached up and removed their mask.

Combeferre took one look at the face previously hidden behind black leather and pressed the ‘terminate call’ button. “Antoinette?”

Courfeyrac smiled, waving her free hand. “May I come in?”

Combeferre nodded, moving over and pushing open the window with her gun in the other hand. Courfeyrac clambered through the window, wincing again when her feet hit the ground.

“Love the place,” she said, examining the living room and kitchen. Her eyes skimmed over the stacks of books that Combeferre hadn’t had time to read in months, the pictures of Combeferre and her friends, and the laundry spread over the coffee table. Courfeyrac’s gaze rested on the daffodil in a tall, thin vase on Courfeyrac’s table. “You kept it.”

Combeferre nodded. She had stopped at the apartment to put the flower in some water on the way to the apartment that wasn’t Solar Flare’s. Or Courfeyrac’s, apparently. “What happened to you?”

“Gun shot wound,” Courfeyrac said. “There was a guy selling heroin to kids, so I decided to go have a talk with him. And I didn’t realize that he also sold guns.” She made her best attempt at shrugging. “Bullet went through-and-through.”

“You’re still walking, so it probably didn’t hit any major organs,” Combeferre said, opening a cabinet under the kitchen sink and grabbing her First Aid kit. “I’ll patch you up, but then we have to talk.”

“I look forward to it,” Courfeyrac said.

\- - -

Combeferre’s phone rang thirty minutes later, interrupting the quiet moans and gasps coming from the two women pressed together horizontally on the couch.

“I should get that,” Combeferre said, mumbling the words against Courfeyrac’s lips before pulling away and looking down at her.

“It’s probably just Enjolras.” Courfeyrac’s hair was a mess from where Combeferre had been tugging at it, and her lower lip was swollen and pink from Combeferre’s teeth.

“I called her before, she’s probably worried about me. Just a minute. Sorry.” Combeferre reached over to the coffee table and grabbed her cell phone from where she had dropped it on top of a pile of socks. She accepted the call and put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Jeanne? What’s wrong? You usually leave at least a voice message or a text when I can’t pick up.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. It’s fine, everything’s fine.” She glanced down at Courfeyrac again. The other woman was staring up at her with dark brown eyes, radiating sexual desire.

“Are you sure? Why’d you call?”

“It was a false alarm. It’s dumb.”

Courfeyrac pouted, lowering her mouth to the top of Combeferre’s breast, unblocked by the fabric of her bra. She kissed the soft flesh with a slightly open mouth, her tongue flicking against the skin. Combeferre gasped.

“You sure you’re okay?” Enjolras said, her voice skeptical. “You aren’t mad at me for earlier?”

“Why would I be mad?” Combeferre said.

Courfeyrac looked up at Combeferre, meeting her gaze as she nipped at her skin, causing her to shudder and bite her lip, looking away. Instead, her eyes trained on the daffodil on the dining room table.

“Because I punched a reporter? So you had to stick your neck out for me? I feel like a shit partner.”

Courfeyrac’s fingers slithered down into Combeferre’s dress pants. “Is this okay?” She whispered, and Combeferre nodded, pressing a finger to her own lips.

“You’re not a shit partner. Grantaire always pulls this sort of thing with you. She just went over the line today. I wouldn’t have done that if I were you, but we’re different people.” Combeferre had to stop the reassuring words because Courfeyrac’s fingers began to rub circles on her clit over her panties, and she had to bite her lip so that she wouldn’t moan. Courfeyrac grinned up at her.

“I know. You’re better than me.”

Despite the hot pressure building in her lower abdomen from the pressure on her clit, Combeferre rolled her eyes. “That isn’t true. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s true. You’re a better cop, a better person-”

Combeferre let out a stifled whimper when Courfeyrac took her earlobe between her teeth, tugging on it and licking at it.

“Jeanne? You okay?”

“Mhmm. Yeah. Fine. Uh. Can I call you back?” She looked down at Courfeyrac with narrowed eyes. The woman beneath her looked back up her with twinkling eyes. Her fingers pushed aside the fabric of Combeferre’s panties, slipping a finger between the wet folds of her pussy.

“Sure? Call me later, though.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Great. Okay. Bye.” Combeferre hung up and threw the phone onto the coffee table, turning her attention back to Courfeyrac. “You’re so dead.”

Courfeyrac laughed, throwing her head back. Her finger found Combeferre’s clit again and continued to rub it in a circular motion, causing Combeferre to moan. “I look forward to you punishing me, Detective.”

Combeferre shook her head. “We really have to talk.” She lowered her mouth to Courfeyrac’s collarbone, leaving a mark on it by sucking on the skin between her teeth.

Courfeyrac whimpered, pressing harder onto Combeferre’s clit. “ _Fuck_ ,” she said, arching up. “Later, please, later. Don’t stop doing that.”

Combeferre pulled away instead, standing up with shaky legs. “Come with me. My curtains don’t close and I don’t want the creep in the building across the street to see me destroy you.”

Standing as well, Courfeyrac reached out for Combeferre, unbuttoning her dress shirt. “I hope you mean with orgasms.”

“Of course I mean with orgasms,” Combeferre said, taking one of her hands. “I’m not the one with super powers.”

Courfeyrac laughed again, and Combeferre pressed her mouth to the other woman’s, breathing the joyous sound in. They kissed, winding their arms around each other, and Combeferre’s fingers rested on the bare skin of Courfeyrac’s back, staying away from the stitches she had given her before their sexual tension became too much.

She pulled her mouth away, skimming her fingertips up and down Courfeyrac’s back, feeling her shiver in her arms. “My bedroom is this way.” Combeferre said, taking Courfeyrac’s hand and leading her down the hallway to her small bedroom and sitting on the unmade bed.

Courfeyrac stepped out of her leather suit and straddled Combeferre, unbuttoning the rest of her shirt’s buttons. “I want you to do so many things to me,” Courfeyrac said. She looked up and down Combeferre’s body, biting her lip. “Fuck, go arrest yourself. You’re literally too hot to be legal. I was right before.”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “You want me in handcuffs? It’s not really my thing.”

“No, I’d rather you handcuff me. Not arresting me, duh. But… You know, tying me up.” Courfeyrac smirked, unapologetic. “That a problem?”

“Of course not,” Combeferre said, turning them around so that she lay beside Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac grinned back at her, tangling her hands into Combeferre’s hair. “Good.” She pulled Combeferre’s mouth towards hers, and they kissed again, Combeferre running her tongue over Courfeyrac’s lips.

Combeferre ran her fingers down Courfeyrac’s abdomen, through her pubic hair, and slipped her finger through the slick folds of her cunt. Courfeyrac’s mouth slackened and she moaned. “So good,” she said. “Fuck me, your fingers feel _so good_.”

Grinning, Combeferre moved her finger in a circle, the bottom joint pressed against Courfeyrac’s clit and the tip of her finger against the opening of her vagina, not slipping in. Courfeyrac whimpered, pressing her forehead against Combeferre’s neck.

“How long have you wanted me to do this?” Combeferre asked, crooking her finger to insert the first joint into Courfeyrac. “How long have you been lusting after the police officer hunting you down?”

Courfeyrac scraped her teeth against Combeferre’s neck, tugging at her hair. “So long.” Combeferre grinned at the pain, inserting the rest of her finger into the other woman’s hot, wet pussy and relishing the loud moan that came from her lips. She crooked the finger up, feeling the small smooth bundle of nerves, and beginning to rub at it. “Oh my god,” Courfeyrac said, yanking at Combeferre’s hair. “Right there, fuck me.”

“That feel good, beautiful?” Combeferre said, kissing Courfeyrac’s forehead.

“So good,” she said, breathless. 

“Good,” Combeferre said, continuing the steady circular pressure against her g-spot. She used her thumb to rub circles on Courfeyrac’s clitoris.

Courfeyrac pressed a hand to her own mouth, crying out in pleasure. “Oh my _god_ ,” she said, eyes shut.

Combeferre frowned, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I want to hear you, beautiful. Talk to me.”

Nodding, Courfeyrac moved her hand to her own breast, pinching the nipple between her thumb and index finger, and then rolling it between the digits. “I’ve touched myself… Done this, thinking about you.” She whimpered, and appeared to lose her train of thought in bliss.

“What did you think about?” Combeferre said.

“You…riding my face,” Courfeyrac said. “And… you fucking me with a huge strapon… not relenting until I’m cumming over and over…”

Combeferre rewarded Courfeyrac with her honesty by pressing against her g-spot harder, lowering her mouth to Courfeyrac’s bared neck when she tilted her head back from pleasure. “I’ll do all of this with you, and more.”

Courfeyrac nodded, biting her lip. “Please. Please, fuck me.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Combeferre said. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Courfeyrac whined and whimpered, biting the skin beneath Combeferre’s ears in her blissed-out fervor. Combeferre moaned. “Why is that so fucking hot?” She pressed her finger harder against the nerves inside of Courfeyrac’s pussy, rubbing it in faster circles.

Crying out and arching her back, Courfeyrac pushed her hips down against Combeferre’s fingers. “Oh my god, don’t fucking stop-!”

Combeferre nodded, moving down Courfeyrac’s body, looking up at her to watch her clutch at her breasts. She lowered her mouth to Courfeyrac’s clit, flicking her tongue against it and continuing the hard circles against her g-spot. Hearing Courfeyrac scream in pleasure, Combeferre continued to suck on her clit until she felt Courfeyrac’s cunt contract around her finger repeatedly, and she grinned, not moving her mouth away until Courfeyrac whimpered quietly.

“Get back up here, you beautiful woman," Courfeyrac said, breathless. "I need to eat you alive.”

\- - -

The next day, Combferre stepped up to her commanding officer’s desk. She felt calm and rested from the previous night's exertions.  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to step down from the Solar Flare Task Force… for personal reasons.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments if you have any questions and/or prompts for other Rule 63 Courferre.


End file.
